Mystery Blonde
by dracoblondie
Summary: In which Draco is a jealous drama queen, Harry is a clueless puppy, Pansy is a black-lipstick lesbian, and Blaise is an avid knitter. Set in 6th year, though all Voldemort-related issues are not as prominent as the romance and frequent jokes at Blaise's expense. DISCLAIMER: I definitely do not own any of the characters, or else they would all be queer in their original work.
1. Fruit Snacks

Chapter One: Fruit Snacks

"Draco, darling, need I remind you of the time you spilt nail polish all over Blaise's hand-made scarf? Honestly, watch it!" After kicking Draco hard in the shin, Pansy wrinkled her nose delicately, layering a second coat of black nail polish on her middle finger. "Do be more careful, we both know how touchy he is about his crocheting habits."

Blaise looked up from his book, glaring fiercely. "I don't crochet, I _knit."_

Massaging his shin, Draco turned to a snorting Pansy. "Fucking hell Pans, I was only tapping my foot!"

She shrugged her shoulders. "The effects of your oh-so-important foot-tapping could lead to bloody murder by way of Blaise Zabini, embroider extraordina-"

Blaise smacked her arm, though much gentler than Pansy had kicked Draco. She flipped him off with her impeccably manicured finger. "Some people are so high-strung."

Draco rolled his eyes, flipping to the next page of Witch Weekly. He and Pansy had permanent subscriptions to every newspaper, cooking journal, and gossip rag available. Each week, they cleared the common room and indulged themselves in reading about sex, scandal, and the newest smoked salmon recipe. Blaise, however, preferred to study, drink black coffee, and generally be boring. They loved him for it, though.

' **HOT FOR POTTER** : Harry's first love!' the article read. 'Harry's view on dating, hair colour, and the perfect… BOYFRIEND?'

Draco nearly choked.

 _Many a girl has fallen for the heroic green-eyed Gryffindor… but was it all in vain? Violeta Longspring of Witch Weekly visited Hogwarts last weekend to score an exclusive interview with the Chosen One himself._

 _V: So, Harry, how are you doing today?_

 _H: Well, I suppose!_

 _V: Happy to have a break from classes? Particularly… Snape's?_

 _H: Er, I'm happy to have some free time, yeah._

 _V: [laughs] Forever the peacekeeper. But is there anything occupying your free time? A girl, perhaps?_

 _H: A girl? Well, I'm usually with Hermione and Ron, but it's not like that with either of them._

 _V: Either of them?_

 _H: Yeah, we've just only ever been friends._

 _V: Are you open to dating anyone at the moment?_

 _H: I suppose it depends on the person, doesn't it?"_

 _V: Is that a yes?_

 _H: Your words, not mine._

 _V: And at the exciting age of 16, is there anything else on your mind?_

 _H: Like… Quidditch teams? I'm rooting for the Chudley Cannons, same as Ron-_

 _V: [laughs] No, Harry, I'm talking about sex._

 _H: Oh._

 _V: Are you a virgin?_

 _H: A vir- wait, what does this have to do with the interview "primarily focusing on wizarding sports"?_

 _V: I take that as a yes._

 _H: Er…_

 _V: Next subject, then. If you were to make a list, what would your perfect girl be like?_

 _H Um, good at Quidditch…_

 _V: You sure do like Quidditch._

 _H: That's why I agreed to an interview mainly about Quidditch._

 _V: Indeed. But first, back to romance. Blonde or brunette?_

 _H: Blonde._

 _V: That was the most confident answer you've given this entire interview._

 _H: Well, blonde hair is an attractive quality._

 _V: And why is that?_

 _H: When the light hits at a certain angle, it looks like an incorporeal Patronus… and right after the match ends, and everyone's just gotten off their brooms, how ruffled it is…_

 _V: [laughs] Sounds like someone's got a crush. Give us a hint?_

 _H: Er, I was thinking about veelas._

 _V: I may not be as big of a fan as you are, but I don't think veelas particularly excel at Quidditch. Just one detail about your mystery girl?_

 _H: I'd rather not._

 _V: No one reads the side column…_

 _H: They would if you wrote about Quidditch instead of this bullshit._

 _V: Harry, remember the Galleons we're donating to S.P.E.W. in exchange for this interview!_

 _H: [sighs]_

 _V: Yes?_

 _H: I do fancy someone, but they can't possibly feel the same._

 _V: Impossible!_

 _H: I'm positive._

 _V: And why are you infatuated with an attainable blonde?_

 _H: I- it's complicated. It's the last possible thingI would've expected, but I've always seen something special, something vulnerable… I think I've always fancied him. Er, I mean, Lin. I fancy a witch named Lin._

 _V: Him?_

 _H: …_

 _V: Harry, this is big news! Are you gay?_

 _H: So as I was saying, the Chudley Can-_

 _V: But this is bigger than Dumbledore's elaborate coming-out party! Harry Potter, the Chosen One, in love with a boy?_

 _H: I'm not in lo- I don't think-_

 _V: Tell me, is he in your year? Or do you have your sights set on a platinum- silver fox?_

 _H:What the fu-_

 _V: Top or bottom?_

 _H I-_

 _V: Does this mean we can call you Harry Otter now? Or do you classify yourself as a twink?_

 _H No-_

 _V: Is the blond beauty queer too? Or is he missing out on a delicious fruit snack?_

 _H: I don't-_

 _The interview was cut short by a very aggressive red-haired boy, who burst into the room and hexed our journalist, reportedly shouting "Son of a witch!". Could it be a past lover of Harry's, heartbroken by that mysterious blonde? Only one thing is for sure: our Harry Potter Fan Club ladies don't stand a chance!_

Draco dropped the magazine. _He's talking about Seamus for sure. Every since he became a Beater, Harry hasn't left him alone… 'talking strategy', what rubbish. No wonder he takes so long to shower…_ Not that Draco kept track of that or anything.

"Something wrong, sugar?" Pansy asked, trying to appear concerned, but looking eager for a bit of juicy gossip (she found this week's articles to be a bit tame, almost no lesbian affairs).

"Potterrrrr," Draco moaned.

His friends shared a knowing look, and a smirk played on Blaise's lips.

"I just found out he's shagging that sandy-haired twat, Finnigan."

Pansy's eyes widened. "You're bloody joking! Fuck, I have to go tell Padma! Wait until everyone- oh, wait. Draco. Honey." She scooted towards him and put her hand on his shoulder, surprising gingerly. "Are you alright? How do you know?"

"Stupid fucking Witch Weekly!," he said hotly, handing her the issue. "And yes, evidently I'm just fine!"

Skimming the article, Blaise reading over her shoulder, her mouth quirked up a bit. "And you saw the name "Seamus" where, exactly?'

"Come on Pans, it's obvious!"

Blaise raised his eyebrows. "Draco, you can't possibly-"

Pansy smacked his hand under the pretense of re-retrieving Witch Weekly. Her eyes were dancing, though her mouth formed a straight line again. Draco didn't notice, he was busy staring out of the window forlornly.

"Well, now you can find someone new to fancy, like, mm… Theo. He has nice arms. And a good bloodline."

Draco's eyes flicked to Pansy's, sneering. "Yeah, that's exactly how it works. I just find another object of affection, and suddenly all of my problems are fixed. What does true love compare to biceps? Thanks Pans, I feel better already."

She looked as if she might cry, and Draco immediately felt bad. However, she was actually fighting to hold in her laughter. For a Slytherin, he was so bloody dense! Could he not read…?

"No need to lash out, love. Just trying to help. But you never know, 'true love' may be closer than you think."

Draco sighed dramatically, propping his elbow against the windowsill and gazing at the rain again. "The closest thing to true love I've ever seen is being in the same room as Blaise and his crochet hooks."

" _Knitting needles_!"


	2. Talking Straight

Chapter Two: Talking Straight

If Harry had a hit list, Violeta Longspring would be the very first name written. Well, maybe under Voldemort and Umbridge, but still a strong contender for top three. In the whole entire clusterfuck that was the wizarding world, all the headlines cared about was that bloody Witch Weekly article? What kind of pathetic prats even read that rubbish?

The Daily Prophet, however, was not rubbish. And what with the head reporter buying the story from WW, all of the respectable newspaper-readers (along with the raunchy-gossip-rag-readers) knew that Harry was a- what did she say, again?

 _"_ _Fruit snack"._

Weren't those her words of choice? Yes, now the entire school knew that he was gay. And Harry really couldn't care less about that bit, because most of the wizarding world was fairly progressive. Maybe not the oldest families, but only because they preferred to keep their bloodline pure. By marrying their cousins.

No, it wasn't the abrupt outing that was bothering him. It was his other confession, the "mystery blonde", the beautiful boy who was probably going to hex him silly next time they met face-to-face. He had to have gotten wind by now, surely he was going to confront Harry anytime now-

"Harry!"

He jumped, but sighed in relief when he saw that it was only Seamus.

"Seamus, hi! Need this month's Quidditch schedule? I think I have it right here, just a sec-"

"No actually, got it from Weasley. But listen, I wanted to talk to you about something."

Harry looked up. "Yeah?"

"Y'know, I've known for a while that you play for the other team."

Harry stared at him, eyebrows furrowed. "Puddlemore United? You know that I haven't responded to their owl ye-"

Seamus laughed loudly, earning him a glare from Madam Pince. After shooting her a sheepish grin, he turned back to Harry. "Harry, talk straight with me here." Then he laughed again, as if he had said something amusing.

"What the hell are you on about? I really haven't confirmed that I'll be playing next year!"

Shaking his head, Seamus clapped Harry on the back with the air of a proud -yet pompous- uncle."Oh, you poor newbie. Just you wait, the Durmstrang boys are going to eat you alive. Though I take it you'd prefer a certain Slytherin to do that instead."

Harry flushed scarlet. "Don't know what you're implying."

He winked. "Course not. Well, I better be off, Dean and I have some, er, studying to do."

"See you on the pitch, Sea."

Watching his retreating figure, Harry sighed. _All of Hogwarts probably knows by now. Hell, the sexually famished Durmstrang boys probably know by now. Oh God, I'll be dead by the end of the day…_

He was too preoccupied with his worrying (and dirty fantasies involving Victor Krum) that he didn't notice the figure studying him intently until he glanced up to check the time. His eyebrows shot up. "What-?"

Pulling up a chair and straddling it, the boy pulled out a copy of Witch Weekly. "We need to talk."


	3. Play Nice

Chapter 3: Play Nice

"Blaise? Wha-"

"Shut it, Potter. Listen." Blaise stayed silent and scowled for a few moments, hoping that his hand-knitted scarf only accentuated his air of intimidation.

"Listen," he repeated. "I don't know what you're playing at, but if you're trying to mess with his head, I will not hesitate to _take care of it_."

Harry eyed the knitting needles in Blaise' hand warily. "I-"

"Shush. Let me talk. Okay, so, congratulations or whatever on coming out of the closet under the stairs. Whoop-dee-fucking-doo, Potter. But I swear, if this turns out to be a joke, or if you hurt him in any way-" He broke off, shaking his head. "My best mate since before Hogwarts, bless him, and still as clueless as a Hufflepuff. If you dare take advantage of that, you won't be known as 'The Boy Who Lived' anymore, if you get my drift."

"Blaise, who-"

"Nope, this is already pointless. You're a rubbish listener, you know that, right? Horrible quality for a boyfriend, don't you think? Though I can see what he means, your eyes really are striking- no, I believe "mesmerizing" was the word he used. Or was it "enthralling"? Either way, he's so fucking pretentious." Blaise' eyes widened. "But you aren't allowed to call him that! Only "precious", or something equally as sickening. And don't ever compare him to Oscar Wilde! First off, no one wants to be compared to a Ravenclaw, not to mention-"

"Really, I-"

Blaise tittered. "Oh, I'm getting off track, aren't I? The point is, play nice."

"What do you-"

"Or else." He jabbed a knitting needle into the pine table, making a small indentation. After glowering menacingly at Harry, he glanced at the clock and immediately brightened. "Oh, look at the time, I should be off off to knitting club! We're knitting little mandrakes today!" He stood up and smoothed his robes. Smiling brightly, he carefully tucked the copy of Witch Weekly in his bag.

"Again, remember what I said. And Potter?"

"Yes?"

"Next time, don't be so quiet."

And with that, he bounded off to knitting club, leaving a thoroughly baffled Harry staring at the small groove in the table and wondering what the hell just happened.

 **Hey guys! It's been what, 8 months?! I'm going to try to update more often, even if it's just bite-sized chapters like this one. Stay tuned for Chapter 4, which takes place during the badass knitting club meeting. As always, reviews are very much appreciated! Thank you for your support, love you all! -Elliot**


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